


On My Way

by popfly



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Gapfillerpalooza, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-27
Updated: 2004-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popfly/pseuds/popfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gapfiller for season one, episode twenty-one. Brian's on his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On My Way

When they announced my name I wasn't really surprised. I mean, I'd been told by numerous clients and co-workers that I was the best fucking ad man in Pittsburgh. Hell, I'd even been told by execs at other agencies. I also wasn't surprised that Adam or Allan or whoever the fuck was gay, and easy as well, or that he came so hard he almost broke the bannister I fucked him against.

What surprised me was what happened next.

It wasn't that he told me I was too good for Pittsburgh. Again, it was something I'd known for years. I was years ahead of the two-bit community college graduates that other agencies were hiring who couldn't come up with a fresh idea if someone dangled one in front of their faces. I knew my stuff was better than the market I peddled it in, but like I told him, I was better off being the big fish in the small pond, making more money than I could spend in the Pitts, living in a loft worthy of Architectural Digest with a closet full of suits that cost more than a month's lease on my Jeep.

It was the job offer. Well, not offer per se, but the opportunity. The opening.

New York. I had been there plenty, the first time when Michael and I were sixteen and Vic splurged on us for Christmas, getting us all tickets to see the Nutcracker. I remember scoffing when he produced the tickets, scowling and mocking the ballet, but being so excited that he'd included me. Not just the bad influence Deb was so fond of reminding me that I was, but part of the family.

We'd left early, made a day of it, catching the early train and wandering the streets around the theatre until our feet ached and my nose felt like it was going to fall off. I felt like a new person in the city even then, staring up at the buildings, watching all the people rushing around, the taxis flying past. Not even the dirty slush in the streets or the calling of the beggars on the corners could discourage me. New York became my dream, the place I would go when I had left my parents behind, breaking free from the feeling that I was nothing, worthless, and becoming someone. 

I would know I'd made it when I got to New York.

And now this guy was handing me a business card, telling me he'd put in a good word for me, and all I could think of was an office in Manhattan, a corner office, huge windows on both sides, a desk twice the size of the one I sat behind at Ryder, a leather chair so comfortable I could sleep in it. A loft as big as the one I had now in a building with a doorman, buying myself a Corvette, fucking guys hotter than Pittsburgh would ever see. 

And I wanted it so badly I felt like a kid again, staring up at the glittering windows of New York City in Mikey's borrowed Sunday best, the pants and sleeves on the jacket too short, wearing them only because Joanie had been too drunk to have my own church suit cleaned, and I preferred ill-fitting to dirty.

I found Cynthia as soon as I could, telling her I was leaving even as I was striding past her, digging the coat check ticket out of my wallet as I walked. She followed hurriedly, her heels clicking on the tile floor in the entry of the ballroom, looking confused.

As soon as I got home I updated my resume and sent it off. I sat back in my desk chair and looked around my loft.

I was on my way. Brian Kinney was going to get out of fucking Pittsburgh once and for all. New York City wouldn't know what hit it.


End file.
